


Attitude Adjustment

by littlecactusfriend



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Anal Play, Anal Sex, Daddy Kink, M/M, Non-Consensual Bondage, Non-Consensual Cuddling, Non-Consensual Groping, Non-Consensual Kissing, Non-Consensual Oral Sex, Non-Consensual Spanking, Non-Consensual Tickling, Non-Consensual Touching, Rape/Non-con Elements, more sin to be tagged as events warrant?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-05
Updated: 2017-05-05
Packaged: 2018-10-28 12:36:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,380
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10831413
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/littlecactusfriend/pseuds/littlecactusfriend
Summary: When Prompto wakes up in Zegnautus Keep, he expects one or more of several unpleasant options to befall him before Noct and the guys can catch up.None of what he imagined involved a scenario where he would possibly be forced under pain of torture to fellate a popsicle in Ardyn's lap while being told what a good boy he was for Daddy. And yet...(A fill for the ffxv kinkmeme!)





	Attitude Adjustment

“Well, well...look who’s home at last.”

Prompto heard Ardyn’s slow drawl before his vision even cleared. His body was sore and felt brittle, his neck cracking as he tried to raise his head amidst a searing headache, and efforts to stretch out failed, his wrists and ankles clamped tightly to a large metal structure. It pinned him upright in the middle of a cold cell lined with brushed steel-plated walls and basic, industrial furniture. Beyond the glass panels of the entrance, glaring red lights barely illuminated the shadows of the raised corridors and vague, shambling figures stumbled around the corridors dragging rusting weapons at their heels. Before the glass panels of the entrance sat Ardyn, looking more comfortable in a creaking metal fold-out chair than Prompto had ever seen anyone look before.

In his lap sat a small electric power saw.

Ardyn followed his eyes to the instrument and met Prompto’s gaze again. A smile quirked his lips. “Do you know, in a moment of boredom, I’ve happened to flip through your old file. Nothing is ever truly erased in digital archives. Isn’t technology grand?” Prompto just stared at him, breathless. Ardyn shrugged. “My best assessment of the great hypothetical of your life as an MT is as follows: as a bright young man with obvious stamina, an aptitude for pain tolerance, and a gift for marksmanship, you would have been funneled into a program and raised towards a glorious career as a sniper. Predictable, and efficient.” He picked up the saw and it buzzed to life with a sinister drone. “And naturally, upon moving to stage two of processing as a sniper, your non-dominant arm would have been removed below the elbow and replaced with an artificial gauntlet capable of unloading one-hundred and eighty rounds per minute and self-destructing at a thirty-foot blast radius in the event of capture.”

“Noct isn’t stupid,” Prompto croaked, his voice catching in fear as Ardyn got to his feat. “Th-there’s no way he hasn’t figured out what you did on the train. He’s going to come for-”

“You’re right-handed, aren’t you, dear? Of course you are.” Ardyn stalked towards him slowly, swinging the saw in careless, buzzing arcs as he went.

Prompto hissed and tried to struggle in his bonds as Ardyn stopped in front of him. “Don’t!”

“I’m going to offer you a choice that no MT unit has ever been offered before...let alone been able to comprehend,” Ardyn added. His smile stretched lazily in spite of the gruesome violence he threatened. “You pick, little one. Right here and right now, in this room. Are you an MT…” he raised the saw. “...Or a real   
boy?”

Prompto clenched his teeth. “I’m a human being,” he said. “I’ve always been a human being!”

“Hmm...that isn’t really what I asked you, was it?” Ardyn stepped leisurely closer to Prompto, practically in his face. Prompto could smell his breath, something like black licorice and herbs he couldn’t name. He turned his face away, but Ardyn brushed his hair out of his face with rough-nailed   
fingers. “What did I ask you, little one? Hmm?”

Prompto couldn’t meet his gaze. He could barely remember how to breathe - his eyes kept darting to the buzzing saw in Ardyn’s hand. “I....I’m not…”

Ardyn’s gaze dripped with sympathy. “Oh, dear heart. Do you need a bit of help?” He raised the saw to Prompto’s left wrist. Prompto nearly choked, struggling against the steel cuffs as Ardyn whispered in his ear, “Are you an MT, or a real boy?”

“I’m a real boy! Real boy, I’m a - I’m a boy!” Prompto stuttered frantically. Ardyn placed a chaste kiss behind his ear, and turned off the saw as Prompto shuddered under his lips. “There we are, now. Was that so very difficult?”

“What do you want from me?” Prompto demanded shakily. “I-if you’re trying to hurt Noct...it’s not going to work…”

“Oh, telling lies, are we?” Ardyn cast the saw aside with a harsh clatter and ran his thumb over the metal collar biting into the soft skin at Prompto’s neck. “And your pulse is just racing! That can’t be healthy for a growing lad such as yourself.” He drew back just an inch, and half-lidded golden eyes met Prompto’s terrified blue. “If you’re a boy, you’re not a very good one today. But don’t worry,” he drawled. “Daddy’s here to make you all better.”

>>>>

The steel collar around his neck did more than restrict his breathing.

Prompto liked to think he was pretty tough. Maybe he couldn’t take a hit like Gladio, or bounce back as quickly as Noct or Ignis, but he had a pretty high tolerance as a side-effect of friendly-fire and spells gone awry. So when he refused to play along with whatever Ardyn had clearly imagined was going to happen, the older man simply smiled in that relaxed, charming way that Prompto was quickly learning meant more trouble for him, and gave Prompto the basic statistics of the shock collar clasped tightly around his throat. The standards were the same for a basic-issue Crownsguard taser baton: 45,000 volts at 20 watts. What made Prompto break out in a cold sweat was the knowledge that the equipment he knew was prohibited from being applied to any part of a subject’s vital nervous system, particularly anywhere along the spine. This collar had what felt like a soft suede lining that made it even tighter against his throat, but the fact still remained that he could feel the shock device cradling the back of his neck as if he was a scruffed baby animal.

“So fussy today,” Ardyn sighed as Prompto glared at him. “And such a little thing to ask of you, to address your new caretaker with the proper respect. I’ll give you three seconds to reconsider. Three…” 

Prompto kept silent, struggling to take deep breaths in preparation for what he knew was coming. If he lost the use of his legs, or more…well, Ignis had sacrificed, too. Lady Lunafreya had sacrificed, too. At Ardyn’s hands.

“Two…”

He hoped he didn’t bite his tongue off.

“…One.” Ardyn surveyed him with a stare partly bored, partly disappointed. “Always the hard way, my boy? Very well. We’ll do this your way.”

Fifty-four minutes later, Prompto thought he could smell his own blood burning inside his head.

“You’re such a sweet little thing. Such a sensitive boy,” he heard Ardyn say faintly through the haze of pain. “This must be the influence of those friends of yours. Such a pity. You’d think a prince would inspire more gentility in his companions…but I suppose there’s no accounting for the state of royalty these days.” Prompto could hear his simpering smile without looking at him. A gloved hand cupped his chin, thumbing at his lower lip as he coughed for breath. “Are we quite finished with our little tantrum?”

Prompto couldn’t raise his head. He tried to force his eyes to focus, peering up through his sweat-soaked hair at Ardyn. “S…screw you,” he whispered with the last of his strength.

Prompto had always felt certain truths about his place in his circle of friends. He felt as if it was so obvious that he was weaker than the rest of them, lacking their courage, their ability…their inherent worthiness. He knew in his bones that Noct, Gladio or Ignis would rather die than succumb to a torturer’s demands, or anything Ardyn offered. He had Lunafreya’s life blood on his hands. He was the conductor of Insomnia’s fall, the only home Prompto had ever known. He carried so much death, so much war and destruction. His friends would have died before caving to his demands just for physical relief. 

Some thirty minutes later, he had his proof that they were so much stronger than him.

“Please,” he mouthed, blood drooling from his lips where he’d bitten the sides of his cheeks in convulsions. He sagged in his bonds that had only seemed to conduct the volts better and make them last longer. He had nothing left: his muscles had failed him completely some long minutes before and only his cuffs and the rigidity of his body as electricity had coursed through him propped him upright, hard steel edges cutting into the bones of his wrists. Sticky blood smeared down his arms. His throat ached, torn from fighting back screams. Prompto struggled for the breath to form words. “Please…stop…”

Ardyn tsk’ed. “You know, I do hate that you’ve forced my hand this way. It truly hurts me more than it does you…” he smoothed damp hair away from Prompto’s face.

“S…stop,” Prompto gasped. 

“You know very well that’s up to you, my lamb,” Ardyn said. “But let’s hear a proper apology as well. Otherwise I may not be convinced you’ve learned your lesson…” he lowered his gloved hand to his side, in Prompto’s line of sight, and he saw Ardyn turning the remote control device to the collar over and over in his palm. “…and then have to continue until I was quite positive.”

It was the lowest he’d ever felt in his life. He’d never been more humiliated as he whispered the word Ardyn had told him at the very beginning he wanted to hear. “I…I’m sorry…Daddy,” he croaked, feeling the bile rising in his throat. He didn’t want to think about what the others would think of him now. He didn’t want to think about everything he was betraying. He felt the heat of Ardyn’s body as he stepped forward just between Prompto’s spread legs, just enough for contact, and he couldn’t do anything to stop him as the older man cupped his cheek. The cuffs released with a hiss of pressure and his body dropped: he sagged into Ardyn’s arms just before he hit the floor, and his wired, racing heart lurched in fear as Ardyn's fairly non-muscular, wiry limbs lifted Prompto like he was nothing.

Like he was a kid. 

The last thing he registered before unconsciousness dragged him down was the press of thin lips to his forehead and a raspy, accented voice murmuring “That’s my boy,” into his hair.

>>>>

He woke up slowly, fuzzy, cradled in heat that soothed his spasming limbs. He was in a large bathtub in a bathroom that could have been any bathroom, but felt like the exact opposite of anything he’d seen in Zegnautus Keep. Hot water that smelled of lemon and lavender sloshed gently around his shoulders. He wondered if he’d actually died, if he’d done okay after all and this was his reward. Then something moved in the water by his thigh, and he realized that the warm surface he was cradled against was far too soft and sensory to be marble.

He jerked, startling as firm thighs rose around his on either side of the tub, and a lean, elegant hand with nails gnawed down to the quick lifted a warm washcloth and soothed over his chest. Prompto struggled to lift his head, his arms, to push away or do anything, but controlled movement apparently wasn’t something his limbs were interested in doing. His head lolled back against Ardyn’s shoulder, and he shivered weakly as Ardyn shifted to press a chaste, lingering kiss to his cheek.

And something twitched against the curve of his ass. 

“Such adorable little freckles,” Ardyn hummed as he washed Prompto’s chest in slow, sensual drags of the cloth. “Very angelic. Back with me now, my angel?”

“Wh-what do you want?” Prompto croaked. “I don’t understand…any of this…” 

Ardyn shushed him, moving the cloth lower down his belly, which was the opposite of comforting. “Do you really need to ask? You’re a very clever boy, Prompto. And so alone in this cruel world…it just makes me want to take you under my wing.”

“Don’ want you,” Prompto said with as much force as he could muster. “Never. You…killed Lady Luna…”

“Daddy kills a lot of people, sweetheart,” Ardyn chuckled. “But I have the feeling you’re going to be a very good boy for me from now on.”

“Go to hell…”

Ardyn slid the washcloth lower and grabbed him, rolling his flaccid dick in his hand even as Ardyn grew harder against his lower back. He raised his free hand, leisurely draped over the side of the tub, to bring up a video on his phone at the level of Prompto’s face. “Let’s watch together, shall we?”

The video was of Prompto’s face, blotched bright red with exertion and streaked with sweat. A hand that obviously belonged to Ardyn smoothed his hair away from his eyes, bright blue against his pink, strained complexion, and in the video Ardyn was saying, “…up to you, my lamb.” Prompto couldn’t watch it. He tried to close his eyes, but Ardyn tightened his hand on his dick like a vice and Prompto gasped, eyes flying open. Ardyn sighed pleasantly and turned up the volume.   
He watched himself beg for mercy from Ardyn, call him Daddy, bring himself so low again. Ardyn arched and ground into Prompto’s ass, nearly purring as he held him tightly, sweat sliding between their bodies. “Gorgeous,” he said. “I love that moment. Shall we watch it again?”

“No,” Prompto whispered. Ardyn allowed him to turn his face away this time.

“I wonder if His young Majesty would find the video as interesting as I do. We could find out together,” Ardyn masturbated him in slow, lazy caresses, but Prompto’s exhausted body had nothing left to give.

They both already knew his answer. “Please don’t,” Prompto said quietly. “…Daddy.”

Ardyn turned Prompto’s chin around to face him. Prompto didn’t put up a struggle. “My bright boy,” Ardyn smiled down at him. “Of course I shouldn’t want to embarrass you in front of your little friends. Give Daddy a kiss now, and let’s make up.”

It was the last thing he wanted to do, but Prompto fought to comply, lifting his head to close the inch of space between them and lay a peck on Ardyn’s stubbled cheek. Ardyn came against his ass a few minutes of fondling later, and Prompto stared at the water and tried to imagine that he was anywhere else.

**Author's Note:**

> I swear to god I can write more than epic age differences, guys, I swear. I'm not even into age play, it's...actually the non-con elements that keep drawing me hypnotically back to these prompts like a moth to a light...?
> 
> ...I guess...that's not necessarily better though...
> 
> Bah.


End file.
